


Debt

by PencilTrash



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 08:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilTrash/pseuds/PencilTrash
Summary: Otayuri Mafia AU.Otabek never expected to see Yuri again after five years. Not like this.





	Debt

**Author's Note:**

> * Thank you [Jonjo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonjo) for the beta work. You are amazing! <3  
> 

Otabek squirmed in his chair, his fingers opening and closing on the velvet of the arm rest, leaving damp patches of sweat. He tried to maintain his poise, back straight, face mostly stoic except for a tiny crease of his brow at the bridge of his nose. He sat there, desperately waiting for the negotiations to be over already.

His father’s face flickered in his memory, one more time. Dark circles, prominent stress lines, the man now looked ten years older, lost and defeated.

Eight Million.

The Altins owed the Nikiforov clan eight fucking million.

It was distressing Otabek. Even though he was sitting in a lavish manor in a perfectly air conditioned room, even though he wasn’t the one who was dealing with the discussion.

“Viktor listen… ” Otabek watched as JJ tried to convince the rival boss to allow more time for them to repay their debts. “We aren’t here to betray you. We're just asking you to consider-”

“We’ve been considerate for the past five years.” Viktor cut him off, in mid sentence. His sharp glare boring holes into JJ’s mind.

Otabek knew his father had made a mistake by asking JJ to lead the settlement talks. JJ’s head was way too big to be bowed by authority. Not even by Viktor Nikiforov, the Mafia boss, whose word was enough to end a discourse or start riots.

Otabek was happy to be sidelined and not be the direct target of Viktor’s cold words. He wasn’t good with words. His strength was in strategic planning and execution. He was the proud owner of an athletic body, quick reflexes and a sharp brain. With his family name slowly disappearing down the drain, he'd sweated blood to regain their reputation. Otabek didn’t utter a word and let JJ handle his mess.

Otabek was still nervous though, he could feel the weight of the green-eyed gaze that prickled the hair on his skin. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't deny the fact that the gorgeous young man sitting beside Viktor was indeed Yuri. Yuri Plisetsky.

It’d been five years since the last time he’d seen him.

He still remembered the lanky figure, twirling on the ice, easy and beautiful.

 

 

Otabek was eighteen when his father finally allowed him to join a public skating institute. On his first day, he was taken aback by the group of sturdy men huddled around a sixteen year old teen. The boy was busy, barking curses at his bodyguards, as if he wouldn't be blown away if any one of them decided to sneeze. It was a sight to behold.

It was after closing hours at the institute, in the timeslots allocated for privileged students, that Otabek got to see Yuri. He knew the boy belonged to the Nikiforov clan, a second son, who was simply trying to pursue his dreams against the overwhelming burden of his family name.

Otabek felt for him. It wasn't an unknown feeling to Otabek, to want to ditch your bodyguards for an hour or so and spin on the smooth surface of the ice, forgetting that there was always someone waiting out there to abduct you, or kill you, to take their sweet revenge on a dispute over so called territories.

Everyday, Otabek waited for his turn on the ice, patiently, arriving early on more occasions than he’d like to admit. He loved to watch Yuri skating.

He got all flustered when, after a month of watching from a distance, Yuri waited to see him practice.

The boy sprawled on the nearby benches, eyes skittering, following Otabek’s every move. Otabek got so self-conscious that he pathetically missed landing his Axel. Three times.

He didn't finish his routine. It was impossible to focus against the sharp gaze that spread warmth in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey,” Otabek froze. He turned around, wiping his face with a towel, more to hide his flushed cheeks than anything else. He didn't miss the tenderness in Yuri’s tone that generally cracked with frustration. “Will you help me with my Salchow?”

“Huh?” Otabek uttered, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that Yuri was actually talking to him.

Yuri rolled his eyes, stepping closer. “Will you teach me? You're real good at this shit.”

"Sure,” Otabek blurted out without thinking, taking the offered hand in a firm handshake.

“Thanks man,” Yuri’s face beamed like sunshine. “I'm Yuri, by the way.”

“Otabek. Otabek Altin.”

“I know,” Yuri muttered, eyes crinkling with a soft smile that made Otabek forget his own name. And he thought this was going to be his best day ever.

That night, half of the Altin clan was slaughtered during a treaty meeting.

The horrendous act was condemned throughout the mafia world. The Altins had lost their leader. Otabek had lost his grandfather.

Otabek never stepped on an ice rink after that. His life became a game of cat and mouse as he struggled to remain alive every fucking day. With his grandfather gone, their old rivals had pledged to destroy every last Altin.

The tragic death ended all their ties with the other clans that had been built up on the elder Altin’s reputation, his terror. The funds from their allies soon got converted into debts.

It took them five years to re-establish their old position. But still, eight million was a tough ask to fulfil.

 

 

“I think I'm done with this meeting, gentlemen,” Viktor suddenly declared, leaving his chair. “My cousin, Yuri, will take over from me here on in.” He bent down and whispered into Yuri’s ear that vaguely sounded like _“Squeeze my eight million out of their asses. I really don't care how”_ before turning towards the Altins, beaming his perfect heart shaped smile.

“So?”

Otabek snatched his eyes away from Viktor’s retreating back, fixing them on Yuri. Luckily, his target was JJ this time.

“How do we proceed with this?” Yuri’s tone was cold, as if he meant pure business and nothing else.

Otabek scanned his face, daring to memorise his grown up features, his long hair that now reached his hips, broad shoulders that carried a leopard print jacket like a second skin, sharp cuts on his face that enhanced his beauty. He was sure Yuri had grown to his height, if not more, looking more mesmerizing if that was even possible. He was still lean, but had developed toned muscles in all the right places.

 _Fuck._ Otabek shook his head concentrating on the conversation again.

“We offer you our full manpower.” As the settlement looked far from closure, JJ had to push more. “The Altin clan will support you until our debts are repaid.”

Yuri scoffed, tilting his head at his side. “And what makes you think we'll allow a whole bunch of rivals in our home?”

“Not the whole clan then,” JJ corrected in a hurry. “But you'll have the benefit of our skilled men, such as me. I'm a sharp shooter-”

“Okay,” Yuri cut him off, stopping his bragging.  His eyes were glinting, holding deep secrets.

_Was that it? Was that all it needed to convince him to forget the eight million?_

“Okay?” Even JJ looked stunned at the sudden agreement.

"Yes, I like your offer,” Yuri shrugged, drumming his fingers on the hardwood of the table in a casual gesture.

“That's great!” JJ chirped, still looking stunned by the easy way out. “I can start from today.”

“Not you, JJ.” Yuri’s word echoed in the room. There was a brief moment of silence before he pointed his slender finger right at Otabek’s face. _“Him,”_ he breathed.

Otabek looked at him, meeting his gaze for the first time after five long years. It was sharp, gazing into his soul, his words sending a cold shudder down his spine.

“Hey, you can't ask for the leader's son,” someone complained in a low tone.

“Sure, I can,” Yuri retorted, his voice calm, calculated, eyes still locked with Otabek’s. “Maybe his father will be more motivated by his absence and return our debts early. What d’you say Altin?” he shot at Otabek, challenging him. “Are you in?”

Otabek felt at least a hundred pairs of eyes looking at him, waiting for his answer. Hoping against hope. His father’s lost face still etched in his memory. He knew his answer would change their fates. Allow them a chance to breathe again.

He also knew it'd take them ages to arrange the debt money.

“Yes, I'm in,” Otabek declared, not missing the way JJ relaxed at his side.

Yuri’s face broke into a smirk. Otabek searched, trying to find any trace of the angry boy he’d once known, whose upturned nose had crinkled when he beamed with a smile.

He couldn't find one.

 

**Author's Note:**

> * Comments/Kudos are gold!! They motivate me to write more  
> * I am on tumblr - [PencilTrash](http://PencilTrash.tumblr.com). Feel free to drop me an ask about my fics or anything else.


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